


Trouble with Money

by SordidFood



Category: Sorted (Website) RPF
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Police AU, Rich Boy Barry, cop James
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 22:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18082340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SordidFood/pseuds/SordidFood
Summary: Constable James Currie takes his role in the Metropolitan Police seriously, even when he has to arrest a particularly flirtatious and aggravating trust fund brat by the name of Barry Taylor.





	Trouble with Money

**Author's Note:**

> The Discord Chat is 100% responsible for the creation of this.

James hates nights like these.

He can see the suspect from the window of the squad car as they pull up, chest to chest with a man much larger than himself and shouting in his face. The call had come over the radio a few minutes before- a drunken patron causing a scene outside of a club after being thrown out.  Being the closest available unit to the scene, James and Mike had responded.

“Car 46, responding to the scene,” James speaks into the radio as Mike pulls the vehicle to a stop. “We have visual, on suspect. White male, mid twenties, appears to be intoxicated.” James opens the door and steps out of the car, approaching the man, who is on his tiptoes to be face-to-face with the bouncer.

“What seems to be the problem here?” James says as he approaches. The suspect spins to face James, tipping dangerously to the left before righting himself.

“Cons’able,” the man slurs in a voice much louder than necessary. “Arrest this man.” He points an accusing finger at the Bouncer “He… is not letting me back into the club.”

“Were you the one who made the call?” James asks the bouncer.

“Aye,” the bouncer replies in a low voice. “My manager did. This one was getting a little rough with the bartender and threatening him.”

“Only because he wouldn’t pour me a drink!” The suspect yells. James wrinkles his nose. He’s  a good 10 feet away from the man, but can smell the vodka wafting off of him. “That… that’s abuse.” The bouncer rolls his eyes and gives James a look like “ _do your bloody job!”_ James takes another step forward, attempting to extract the suspect from the situation.

“Come on sir,”James says as he takes hold of the man’s arm, but he immediately rips it out of his grasp.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” The suspect hisses, glaring at James which complete disdain. “I will call my lawyer.” James wants to scoff; as if he hasn’t hear _that_  before.

“Sir,” he says a bit more firmly. “You’re not under arrest. We’re just going to escort you home.”

“Oh, _are you?_ ” The man’s eyes go comically wide. “You think you can just grab random people on the street because you have a badge? Makes you feel like a big man?” If James wasn’t on duty he’d point out how he’s nearly a full head taller than him and doesn’t need to _feel_ like the bigger man.

“Sir, I assure you, we don’t was to escalate the situation-”

“Hey, mate, you need help there?” The bouncer asks. James opens his mouth to assure him he has control of the situation when he catches a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of a fist flying toward his face. He easily dodges the hit and the suspect lurches forward, stumbling with the momentum of the punch. James’s non-lethal combat training kicks in and he immediately goes for the man’s opposite arm, twisting it behind his back and immobilizing him. There’s a smattering of awkward cheers and applause from the few club goers loitering outside the door. The suspect makes a confused squawking noise as James hauls him upright. Mike approaches the pair of them, but James waves off the assistance.

“I got it,” he says. He unsnaps the cuffs from his belt and, in one swift move, clicks them on the man’s wrists.

“You do not have to say anything,” James recites en rote. “But it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned…” He and Mike each take hold of a shoulder and haul him toward the squad car, pushing him up against the side.

“What the Hell?” the suspect blurts out. “What the fuck? Am I getting arrested?! Am I seriously getting arrested?”

“You are under arrest for assaulting an officer,” Mike says.

“Assault? I didn’t assault anyone!”

“You threw a punch,” Mike clarifies.

“It didn’t even land!” the suspect huffs as James begins to pat him down. “I want to speak to my lawyer! I want- _Oh_! Hello there, Constable… A bit handsy aren’t you?” James ignore the suspect’s comment as he extracts his wallet from his back pocket and passes it to Mike.

“ _Barry Taylor,_ ” Mike reads as he flips it open. “Well, Barry Taylor, you are under arrest for assaulting an officer, public intoxication, public disturbance…” James opens the squad car door and pushes Barry Taylor into the back set as Mike rattles off numerous charges. James knows half of them won’t stick, but normally the laundry list of potential charges is enough to shut mouthy suspects up until they reach the station. James slams the door before getting into the passenger seat and picking up the radio.

“Dispatch, Unit 46 calling in.” he says.

_“Go for dispatch, Unit 46.”_ Jamie responds.

“Suspect in custody. Returning to station.” Mike opens the drivers’ side door and slides behind the wheel, starting the vehicle. James pulls the computer toward himself and starts to input the arrest report

“Oh my god,” Barry Taylor groans from the back seat. “My dad is going to be so angry. Like… Legitimately pissed off. Not just like when I bought an alpaca, and he was put out over that .”

“The you shouldn’t have punched a police constable,” Mike mutters. “Now, quiet back there.”

“I’ll admit, though, the handcuffs… I’m into it.” The seat leather squeaks as Barry shifts and moves. “Honestly, I’m half-stiff right now. You get a look at this?”

“I said quiet,” Mike repeats.

“They’re _really_ doing it for me,” Barry scoots across the bench until he’s right behind James. “As are _you_ , constable.” James stops typing mid-sentence and he hears Mike give an amused snort.

“You have the right to remain silent, sir,” James reminds Barry, trying to refocus on the report.

“But why would I want to?” Barry whines, leaning back against the seat and letting his legs drop open. “Let me just say that when you bent my arm behind my back… mmm, constable... got me all hot and bothered over here.” James turns to look back at Barry.

“Mr. Taylor, I recommend that you utilize your-”

“I bet you hear that kind of thing lot, yeah? I mean... you’re hot as fuck and a ginger to boot?” Barry bites at his lip suggestively. James can hear the shaking breath that is indicative of Mike attempting to hold in laughter. “I’ve never had a ginger before. Are you a real ginger?”

“Sir, I recommend-”

“Does the carpet match the drapes?” Barry raises an eyebrow. “I’ve heard ginger dick tastes different… That true?” Mike lets out guffaw at that.

“Enough!” James snaps, twisting around and giving Barry his most threatening stare. He blinks in surprise, and for a second James thinks he finally got through to him. But then his expression relaxes and his leering smile returns.

“Getting all demanding with me, Constable?” Barry tilts his head to the side. “You’re really pushing all the right buttons tonight.” Barry licks at his his lips lewdly. James turns back to face front as Mikes tries to hold back another laugh and fails.

_“Dispatch calling unit 46.”_ James picks up the radio.

“Unit 46, go for dispatch.” There’s a pause that’s a moment too long.

_“... Why did you never tell us you had a boyfriend, James?”_ Jamie breaks out in a fit of giggles accompanied by Mike. James switches off the radio with a disgusted growl.

* * *

 

A few days later, Mike plops down into his desk opposite James.

“Your boyfriend got off,” Mike says in a voice that’s slightly too loud for the soft hum of the squadroom. James stops what he’s working on and glances up at Mike.

“What?”

“Your boyfriend? The one who tried to punch you a few weeks back?” Mike reminds him. “The one who wouldn’t stop hitting on you? Remember?” James’s frown deepens; yes, he remembers.

“He had his arraignment today,” Mike continues. “Dismissed without a hearing.”

“Are you serious?” James sits forward in disbelief. “After what he did?” Mike shakes his head.

“The barrister didn’t even have to speak. Judge just sat down and said ‘all charges dismissed.’ It’s bollocks.”

“He assaults an officer and there’s no repercussion?” James is still in utter disbelief. Never in his life has he heard of someone not even getting a slap on the wrist for felony assault. “Who is this guy?” Mike shrugs and makes a noise that vaguely sounds like _“I don’t know”_.

“He’s your boyfriend. You tell me.” Mike flashes a wink and walks off again.

“Not my boyfriend,” James calls after him.  

* * *

 

If that had been James’s only encounter with Barry Taylor, he doubts he would’ve given the memory a passing thought.

But it wasn’t.

_“Unit 46, Dispatch here.”_ Mike picks up the radio.

“Unit 46 here. Go for Dispatch.”

_“Alarm system report received of trespassing at 61 Borough Road, SE1 1DZ. Suspect unknown, possibly armed and dangerous. Please respond.”_

“Roger that, Dispatch.” Mike says before setting down the handset. James sighs and flicks on the code lights.

As they pull up to the reported address, James kills the lights and puts the squad car in park. He and Mike exit the vehicle, scanning the area. The entire block seems asleep, not surprising for 2 am on a Thursday evening, but there is the blare of an alarm system coming from an open door of a Thai restaurant.

“Must be the place,” Mike says.

“Suspect is probably long gone,” James adds, but he knows they still need to survey the area. He extracts his baton from his belt, keeping it ready at his side as they approach the building.

As soon as they step through the doorway, they spot him. A body, a man, laid across one of the booths, snoring loudly.

“You think he’s homeless?” Mike asks in a low voice. James frowns and steps forward to get a better look.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me?” He mutters. Barry Taylor, the drunken idiot who took a swing at James and then got off scot-free, lays sprawled out, face up across the booth.

“Hey! it’s your boyfriend!” Mike says cheerfully.

“Not my boyfriend,” James mutters. He reaches out and shakes Barry’s ankle violently.

“Mr. Taylor!” He shouts. “Mr. Taylor!” Barry stirs and rolls over onto his side. James huffs in frustration as he pulls his torch out of his belt.

“Mr. Taylor!” He flashes the light in Barry’s eyes. Barry groans and squints, throwing his arm across his face.

“What the fuck,” he slurs.

“Mr. Taylor, get up,” Mike orders. “You are trespassing on private property. You need to evacuate the premises.”

“Trespassing??” Barry sits up rather inelegantly, cracking open on eye. “I am in my house, how can I be-” He blinks open both eyes as he takes in his surroundings. “I’m not in my house.”

“No, you are not,” James says, gingerly taking Barry’s arm and helping him to his feet. “And I’m afraid we’re going to have to take you to the station.”

“Noooo,” Barry whines, leaning his weight against James. “Am I getting arrested again? Oh, Ben is going to be so cross with me.” Mike takes Barry’s other arm, lifting him off of James.

“ _‘Barry, what would your father say about such behavior_ .’” Barry’s voice takes on a high-pitch, mimicky tone. “ _‘Barry, stop making messes for me to clean up!’_ ” They haul him out of the building. For such a wiry-looking guy, it seems to take a shocking amount of effort for Mike and James to heft him across the sidewalk toward their squad car.

“Am I under arrest?” Barry asks dismally, glancing up at James with bloodshot eyes.

“Are you in handcuffs?” James replies.

“Ahh, Is that an offer, Constable?” Barry leans his weight against James, smirking up at him, before drowsy recognition lights up his face. “Wait… I know you. Have we slept together?” Mike makes an amused snort and James glares at him.

“No,” James says firmly as he swings open the car door and helps Barry into the back.

“But we have met, haven’t we?” Barry asks. “I’m sure we have. I don’t think I’d forget meeting a hot piece of-” James slams the door before he can finish.

“James,” Mike says, clicking his tongue. “That was unprofessional.”

“Is that your name?” Barry yells through the car door. “James? Oh I like that. I bet it’s really easy to moan. _Jaaaaaaaamees._ ” James rolls his eyes and walks around the vehicle.

“Let’s just get him back to booking,” he mutters.

* * *

 

By the time they arrive back at the station, a harried-looking, bespectacled man is waiting in the squad room, already speaking to Superintendent Stiles. As soon as Mike and James walk Barry through the door, the man comes rushing over to them.

“Hullo, Ben,” Barry says, rather cheerily in spite of Ben’s grim expression.

“Barry, I cannot express my level of disappointment,” he says, crossing his arms across his chests. “What should I tell your father? Hm? This behavior is completely unacceptable. Breaking and entering? _Really, Barry?!_ ”

“I said he’d say that, yeah?” Barry looks up at James. “Isn’t that just what I said he say?” James is ready to walk Barry down to processing, when Superintendent Stiles blocks his path and addresses this Ben person..

“Mr. Ebbrell, Mr. Taylor is free to go. We’re issuing a verbal warning. Thank you for your time.” Ben gives a firm nod to the Superintendent, but James just stares at him dumbfounded.

“A warning?!” James hisses in disbelief. “Again!? He should at least receive a misdemeanour. Has anyone even spoken to the owners of the restaurant or-.” The superintendent shoots him an immediate stern look, cutting James off.

“We really appreciate the the consideration. Thank you.” Ben says, grabbing Barry by the arm. “Come on, Barry. The car is waiting.”

“Bye, James,” Barry waves wildly as Ben pulls him toward the exit, but James only gives him a hard stare. “Oh, James is upset, Ben. He’s cross with me.”

“He’s not the only one,” Ben mutters under his breath. As soon as they are gone, James turns to Superintendent Stiles, ready to argue, but is met with a solemn head shake and a hand held up.

“Currie, Huttlestone.” His voice is resigned but firm. “I appreciate the due diligence, but please, leave it be.” He sighs as he walks off. James glances at Mike who gives a small shrug.

“Teflon Barry, once again,” he mumbles as he walks off.

* * *

 

After that, arresting Barry Taylor (or at least taking him into custody) becomes a monthly, If not bi-monthly occurrence. James isn’t always the responding officer, but it happens on his shift often enough that whenever Barry is brought in, James’s name was inevitably brought up as well.

Much of this is due to Jamie and Mike’s doing, always referring to Barry as _“James’s boyfriend._ ” It didn’t take long for the entire station to catch on to that.

Barry’s charges always vary, some minor, some more serious, but after each one, that same annoyed-looking man, Ben, would come and collect him, paying any fines, and quietly muttering about “ _what will your father think?”_

There is a lot of speculation around the squad room over what exactly exactly made Barry so untouchable and who this mysterious “ _father_ ” is. Mike assumes he is the son of some distant member of the Royal family and Jamie says he’s probably the son of an MP.

It isn’t until the seventh time that James arrests him that he finds out exactly who Barry Taylor is.

* * *

 

“Currie,” Superintendent Stiles sits across from him, his office door shut.  “While I always appreciate your effort. I need to speak to you regarding the Taylor boy.”

“Sir?”

“You need to stop arresting,” the Superintendent says. “From now, on, just… turn a blind eye.” James is gobsmacked.

“What?… Sir, He had a gram of cocaine on him!” Stiles sighs heavily and looks James square in the eye.

“This is a direct order from the Commander himself,” he says. “Mr. Taylor-Stonesworth’s father is... “

“Stonesworth?” The name is too familiar to not ring a bell. “As in… Richard Stonesworth?” James asks, receiving a grim nod in return. “Barry Taylor-”

“Taylor-Stonesworth.”

“-Is the son of Richard Stonesworth?”

“Yes, and apparently his… exploits are bad for his father’s company’s image.” Superintendent Stiles gives the barest of eyerolls. “So they’ve asked us to stop.”

“They’ve asked us to stop?!” James blurts out incredulously. “We have to stop? Why… Why doesn’t his father step and and get a handle on his out-of-control son instead?” Stiles simply stares at the corner of his desk and gives a soft hum in thought.

“Perhaps because he’s too busy buying his fourth yacht or attending the Grammys.” He shrugs. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. A representative from Stonesworth Ltd. has contacted the Commander, who has contacted us, so we are to no longer arrest Mr. Barry Taylor-Stonesworth.”

The look on the Superintendent’s face tells him that he too dislikes the decision, but that there is zero room for argument and James shouldn’t even try. James gives Stiles a nod in confirmation and exits his office. As he returns to his own desk, Mike stops typing and glances up from his computer screen, giving James a sympathetic look.

“Heard the news about you-”

“If you call him my boyfriend, I’ll thump you,” James says as he takes his seat. “I’m serious.” Mike gives a hum and returns to typing.

“Heard and understood,” he says.

* * *

 

If James had thought that the embargo on arresting _Barry Taylor-Stonesworth_ would be the end of their interactions, he would  be very much mistaken. The man is a magnet for trouble. He seems to see Barry more now than when he was taking the man into custody. No matter how often the situation would normally call for his arrest, though, James does exactly  as he is told.

“Awful kind of you, Constable Currie,” Barry says, relaxing back against the patrol car as James writes him his fifth warning (that James knew of) that month.

“Nothing kind about it,” he mutter, scribbling across the page with some annoyance. “I was told to leave you alone and not arrest you.” He tears the page off the pad. “I was never told to not give you warnings... Which is what I’m doing.” Barry looks perturbed as he take the slip of paper from James, staring at it.

“This is my dad’s doing isn’t it?”

“Your father’s company, yes” James clarifies. Barry’s shoulders sink slightly and James almost feels bad for the poor little rich boy. Almost

“Figures,” he mutters, shoving the warning in his pocket

“If you’re not suited to drive yourself home, I can escort you,” James says. He’s just doing his normal due diligence as an officer, but from the wry smile spreading across Barry’s face, it’s clear that he’s inferred an entirely different meaning. “That’s not… That’s not what I meant.” Barry chuckles lightly, scratching a hand down the back of his head

“Aww, as much as I appreciate the offer, _Constable_ ,” The word rolls off his tongue like something filthy and it catches James off-guard how much he likes it. “I shouldn’t keep you any longer. I’ll give Ben a call and let you get back to work.” James is about to say _‘it’s not trouble’_ , but Barry is already on his phone. He starts to walk away, offering an awkward wave goodbye. Barry flashes him a quick wink and James feels a strange surge of warmth in his gut. He returns to his squad car, slipping into the passenger’s seat besides Mike.

“Ready?” Mike asks. James gives a stiff nod and picks up the radio.

“Dispatch. Unit 49.”

_“Go for Dispatch, Unit 49._ ”

“Show me clear, written warning issued. 10-A. Returning to patrol.”

_“Roger that.”_ Jamie says. _“Did you have a nice visit with your boyfriend, James?”_ James rolls his eyes as Mike snatches the radio out of James’s hand.

“He was looking at James like an absolute snacc,” Mike gushes.

_“Oooh, did you get his number this time?”_ Jamie asks. James grabs the radio back from Mike.

“Be fucking professional, Dispatch.” He clicks off the radio, muttering under his breath. “Not my boyfriend.”

* * *

 

James would say that his sudden interest in tabloid magazines and gossip websites is due to his desire to keep up to date on the latest celebrity news, but even he knows that sounds like bollocks. Truthfully, he wants to keep an eye on Barry ( _“Professionally!”_ He insists to Mike), because God knows no one else is watching out for the guy. The news surrounding Barry is usually pretty innocuous in a legal sense - slightly indecent behavior, insulting words, minor scuffles with other B and C-list celebrities. Honestly, aside from his drug and alcohol usage, Barry doesn't seem to be doing anything outside of a misdemeanor, if that.

One evening, as he’s finishing up his latest arrest report, he feels someone gently cuff him around the head.

“The hell…?” Jamie and Mike stand above him, grinning wide enough to worry James. “What?”

“Guess who’s in the station right now?” Mike looks like the cat who ate the canary. James stalwart expression doesn’t change.

“Barry got arrested?” He can’t cover the strand of disappointment in his voice. If the man did something awful enough to forgo the ban on his arrest-

“Nah, he’s the victim this time. Giving his written statement right.” Jamie says. “Looks pretty messed up to. Might need you to kiss him and make it better.” James ignores Jamie’s implication and rises from his desk, heading toward the main squad room. He wants to see for himself what kind of shape Barry is in; he doesn’t like the idea of him being hurt. Barry might a pain in the ass, but he’s not a bad guy, definitely not the type of guy who deserves to be assaulted.

James spots him as soon as he enters the room, sat at one of the lead detective’s desk, talking animatedly, his hands flying in front of him.

Jamie hadn’t been lying when he said he looked rough, but it isn’t as bad as James had imagined. His right eye is puffy and swollen with a dark purple bruise beginning to form beneath it. There’s a trail of dried blood running from his nose and lips as well as from a few scratches on the left side of his face.

“... Then the huge bloke just _‘Pow_ ,’” Barry mimics punching the air. “His mates start going after me. I’m flailing trying the fight back-”

“And you ended up on the ground?” The detective asks.

“Yeah, one of his friends got me down there,” Barry says. “I gave ‘em a good fight, though.” The detective raises an eyebrow but doesn’t answer as he continues to take notes. Barry catches sight of James and turns to him, smiling wide and reopening the split in his lip.

“Constable James! Hi!” He waves wildly. “Hey, this time, it wasn’t my fault! Well, not really my fault...I may have run my mouth a bit.” The detective snorts derisively but doesn’t turn his attention away from his work.

“I’m sure,” James replies. “I was told you were here giving your statement.” Barry shrugs.

“I wasn’t intending on pressing charges, but…” He glances at the detective who gives a pointed look. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“They committed assault,” James points out. “They can’t just be let free because you feel like it.” Barry raises a curious eyebrow, as if the idea of not being able to do as he likes is as foreign to him doing his own laundry.

“Is there anything you’d like to add to your statement?” The detective asks. Barry thinks for a second before speaking.

“Uh… I think I won the fight.”  

“Don’t write that down,” James mutters. Barry rises from the chair and gathers his jacket.

“Guess I’ll be on my way,” he pulls out his phone. “I’ll see if Ben is still awake. I’ll never here the end of it if he has to get out of bed to-”

“If you’d like, I can give you a ride,” James says. Barry raises his head to glance at James. “Huttlestone and I are about to go on patrol. We could drop you off at your home.” A slow smile spread across Barry’s face, and James is surprised by the sudden warmth he feels in his chest.

“Constable Currie, that’s quite a generous offer.” Barry pretends to contemplate it for a moment. “I really don’t want to impose…”

“I just said that we could-”

“...But if you insist.” He gives the detective a cheerful little wave as he heads out of the squad room. It takes James a moment to remember that Barry doesn’t know where he’s going before following after him.

Mike looks confused and then a little pleased as he sees James approaching with Barry in tow.

“Huttlestone,” Barry greets Mike as if they are meeting for a board meeting.

“James,” Mike turns to address him. “You giving your… _Mr. Taylor_ a tour of the place?” James appreciates Mike not mentioning the “ _boyfriend_ ” thing in front of Barry, but he wishes the man had some sort of poker face Currently, he grinning so brightly, he might as well be radioactive.

“I said we could offer him a lift home,” James explains. “So as not to disturb his friend.”

“Oh, Ben loves collecting me,” James knows from experience that Ben absolutely _does not_. He opens squad car door for Barry, who slips inside the back seat.

The ride to Barry’s home is oddly quiet. James expected Barry to chat his ear off as usual, but Barry is subdued, watching the city streets pass by and occasionally commenting on questions from Mike and James.

When they finally pull up outside of Barry’s Belgravia townhome, his eyes are drooping and his forehead is pressed against the window. James calls out his name and Barry jerks awake as the squad car pulls to a stop.

“We’re here?” he asks, stretching awkwardly. “Fantastic. I was about to drift off.” James exits the car and opens the door for Barry, the other man clumsily stepping out of the vehicle.

“Sorry,” Barry mumbles as he places a steady hand on the open car door. “I swear I’m sober, just… an idiot.”

“Well, you’re home now, so there’s no more chances of you getting into any trouble.” James says with a chuckle. Barry gives him in return makes his heart swell just a little bit more.

“Bold of you to assume that, Constable,” Barry takes a step closer, “ _James._ ” James’s brows draws together in confusion and before he can react, Barry’s mouth is on his, kissing him. James stiffens in surprise but as Barry’s lips start to move over his, he relaxes into the kiss.

It’s brief, maybe only a few seconds and it’s interrupted by a siren blare, thanks to Mike. James pulls back, swallowing hard as he looks down at wonderfully flushed Barry, The door to the townhouse opens, Ben waiting in the doorway in a dressing gown.

“ _Barry_ ,” he sighs. “Did you get arrested again?”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Ben,” Barry huffs as he head toward the front door.

“Mr. Taylor-Stonesworth was giving a statement about an incident he witnessed tonight,” James explains, trying to gather his professional bearings once more. “He’s in no trouble.” Ben raises a doubtful eyebrow, noting Barry’s injuries.

“I’m sure he had nothing to do with any of it,” he mutters sarcastically, stepping aside so Barry can enter the house. “I’ll need to tell your father in the morning about this, whether or not you were responsible.” Barry clicks his tongue rudely.

“God, Ben, you don’t have to tell the man everything.”

“If I told him everything, Barry, you’d be cut off completely.” Barry rolls his eyes and walks into the house, stopping for a moment to spin back around.

“Bye, James,” He purses his lips in an air kiss and James’s already reddened face flushes deeper. He’s thankful Ben has already closed the front door. James watches the outside light flick off before returning to the squad car.

Mike doesn’t say anything as he sits down, but James can feel his laer gaze.

“Whatever you’re planning on saying,” James says as Mike turns the engine. “Don’t say it.”

“I haven’t said a word about either you or your boyfriend,” Mike says as he shifts into first gear. The words “Not my boyfriend” sit on James’s tongue, but he doesn’t think he can manage them over the lovesick expression he knows is on his face.

* * *

 

He knows Barry isn’t his boyfriend. They’ve never hung outside of a professional setting and, despite Barry’s flirtations, he’s hardly of sound mind when James sees him. Maybe sober Barry wouldn’t even _like_ James. Maybe he’d think him a dullard or a nerd or one of the many other names he’s been called. Hell, maybe James wouldn’t even want to be around Barry sober ( _if_ he ever is sober). Maybe he’s the giant trust-fund, pain in the ass that James always expected.

Still…

James can admit it feels nice to be flirted with. It feels nice to have someone look at you like you hung the moon and it _definitely_ felt nice to be kissed unexpectedly by Barry Taylor-Stonesworth. James wouldn’t mind doing it again honestly.

Maybe next time he sees Barry, he’ll ask for a number or see if he’d mind James sending him a message on instagram. James started following him a couple months ago as well as the #barrytaylor tag. Jamie and Mike have been merciless with their stitching up, but James can’t be bothered.

He likes the guy. What of it?

* * *

 

The magazine lands on James’s desk with a ‘smack.’ James looks up to see the back of Jamie’s head as he passes.

“You boyfriend is getting up to things, Currie,” he says in a sing-song voice. James’s brows draw together and he picks up the magazine. It’s one of those glossy tabloids they sell at the supermarket with outrageous headlines and blurry photos. The photo on the cover is far from blurry, though. It’s a crisp shot of Barry Taylor-Stonesworth and a taller man locked in an intense kiss at some sort of outdoor festival. The taller man appears to have a cigarette in one hand and the other grabbing Barry’s ass and hoisting his leg up.

_“Bad Boy Barry Caught with Mystery Man!”_ The headline declares in large letters across the page. James opens the magazine, flipping to the dog-eared pages where more pictures await.

They are all shots of the same kiss, but from the number of angles and the way their hands keep shifting, it looks like it went on a long time. Barry’s eyes are squeezes shut and the glass of beer in his hand looks precariously close to tipping as the taller man pulls him close.

James feels like his veins fill with ice water as he stares at the photos. He can’t stop staring at them- Barry being kissed within an inch of his life, not giving a fuck about anything or anyone, especially James.

He feels so stupid. He was too naive to think that Barry’s flirting and sweetness meant anything more than getting out of a citation. Clearly, Barry Taylor-Stonesworth has a gaggle of people in his bed. James would be an idiot to think that Barry would want him for more than anything physical.

He closes the magazine and drops it in the trash can. Mike looks up from his own desk opposite James.

“Everything alright?”

“Sure,” James says bitterly as he shuffles the papers on his desk. He can’t see Mike’s face, but he can feel his stare. “Really, Mike. I’m fine. Let’s just get back to work.”

“Trouble with the boyfriend?” Mike asks. James eyes flick to the trash can where The image of Barry and the other man is still visible from the front cover.

“Not my boyfriend,” James mumbles.

* * *

 

Apparently, several paparazzo got shots of that kiss at the Music Festival, because James can’t seem to escape it. His google alert for Barry is so inundated with it, he turns it full off.

Not that he needs to alert anymore. He’s done thinking about Barry Taylor-Stonesworth. The man is a spoiled slouch with too much time and money and no sense for either.

James is better off without him. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Jamie and Mike seem to notice his mood and lay off on the jokes for a while. Work continues as it always has- patrols, paperwork, and protocols. James tries not to think about Barry and he’s mostly successful, until one even a few weeks later.

_“Car 46,”_ Jamie’s voice comes over the radio. _“Please respond.”_ Mike picks up the radio and speaks into to.

“Car 46 responding. Go ahead, dispatch.”

_“Reports coming I about about possible bomb threat at Club 49 Soho. All available units please respond.”_

“Copy that, Dispatch.” Mike says and hangs up the radio. He glances at James with a grin as he hits the switch, the squad car’s sirens coming to life as they zip down the streets.

* * *

 

The scene is a mess when they arrive- squad cars parked askew, their lights casting multi-colored shadows across the buildings. People dressed in barely-there clubwear gather along the pavement, some giving their statements to the available officers.

“Bomb threat,” a fellow constable informs James and Mike. “Called in at 11:38. Ordnance disposal has done the preliminary sweep and are doing another round. We suspect it might be a hoax, but better safe than sorry.” She flashes a friendly smile at them.

“There were a few injuries, mostly incidental from the rush to exit the building.” She continues, pointing toward the crowd. “If you can take names and statements, see if anyone saw any suspicious activity or-“

“JAMES!!” His name echoes from across the crowd and James cringes; there’s no doubt in his mind who it is.

He looks across the area to see Barry Taylor hopping out of an ambulance bay and half jogging/half limping toward him, an EMT calling after him helplessly.

“God, it’s been ages,” Barry says as he wraps his arms around James’s middle in a tight squeeze. James catches several officers giving him curious looks and James can only offer a weak shrug. “How’ve you been, mate?”

“Are you injured?” James narrows his eyes at Barry. A bruise spreads across his cheek and orbital bone, swelling his eye shut slight. His lip is also swollen from a deep gash and a dried blood runs from the corner of his lip.

“Oh a bit,” Barry says, gently touching his cheek with two fingers, wincing. “But it was a mess getting out of there. Accidentally ran into someone’s elbow when I tripped and rolled my ankle.” He picks up his right foot in demonstration just at the EMT reaches them.

“Sir, you need to return to the ambulance,” she says, gently taking hold of his shoulders we have to check you over and get you back to the A&E for x-rays on that ankle.”

“I’m fine,” Barry huffs, casting off her arm. “I’ve done worse.”

“He has,” James confirms. The EMT shoots them both a dubious look, raising an eyebrow.

“You know this man?”

James glances down at Barry and easily shakes loose of his hold. He’s not having any of Barry’s false flirtatious nonsense tonight.

“Mr. Taylor-Stonesworth, this is an active crime scene.” He says. “For the safety of the officers and everyone here, we’d appreciate if you-“

“Why you talking all professional like that?” Barry asks, frowning. “And why are you calling me that? That’s not my name!”

“An officer will collect you statement soon,” James continues. “For now, I suggest that you have your injuries attended to. We are very busy at the moment-”

“I’m fine!” Barry says curtly, shrugging off the EMT at his shoulder. He glares up at James. “I don’t need to be looked at and I don’t understand why you are calling me that. You know who I am!”

“I know exactly who you are.” James matches his gaze. “And I am requesting that you cooperate at this time or I will have you taken into custody.” James doesn’t have the authority to threaten that, but Barry’s expression immediately falls and he shrinks back. James feels vindicated for a brief moment, watching the EMT walk barry back to the ambulance, but then immediately feels like shit.

“That was a bit harsh, wasn’t it, James?” Mike asks as he steps up at James’s side.

“Shut it,” James mutters, walking off.

* * *

 

By the time ordinance disposal has secured the scene and declared it safe, the sun is already beginning to peek through the buildings of downtown.

James heads back to his squad car, ready to be off for the day, but stops short when he hears someone clear their throat. Barry leans against the drivers side door of the vehicle. He’s a bit more cleaned up than earlier, the blood cleared from his face and lip, but the bruising on his cheek has only deepened.

“What are you still doing here?” James asks. “I told you to give your statement and have your injuries taken care of.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Barry insists. “I have a bum ankle and a split lip. It’s hardly worth a trip to the A&E. Can we talk?”

“No, I have to report back to the station.” He attempts to reach for the door handle, but Barry doesn’t budge. “Mr. Taylor-Stoneworth, please step away from the vehicle.”

“There you go calling me that again,” Barry says, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t understand. That’s not my name.”

“According to records, it is. Now if you would please move-“

“Why are you acting like this?” Barry pushes off the car, stepping closer to James. “We were getting pretty friendly for awhile there.”

“An error in my judgment,” James says.

“An error?” Barry’s voice practically squeaks. “We’re friends!”

“You’re a pain in my arse!” James huffs. “I don’t have time to deal with your bullshit. The met doesn’t come to a standstill just because Barry Taylor-Stonesworth wants to have a _chat-_ “

“That’s not my name!” James is caught off guard by the way Barry‘s voice echoes off the nearby walls. “No one calls me that. You know that!”

“I don’t know anything about you!”

“You know me! You know _me_.” The sincerity in Barry’s voice almost breaks James’s resolve. Almost.

“What I know about you,” James begins slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that your the type of person to flirt with someone relentlessly in order to get your way, kiss them one week, and then snog a total stranger at a festival the next.” James’s heart beats rapidly in his chest, the anger he’s been feeling finally breaking the surface. Barry just stares at him, his mouth a perfect ‘O’ and blinking owlishly.

“You know about that then?” he asks.

“Of course I bloody know about it!” James yells. “It’s all over the internet and the photos are in every tabloid. It’s impossible to miss.” _In spite of my best efforts,_ James stops short of saying. Barry looks away from James toward the pavement, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“I… I didn’t mean it,” he mumbles. “I mean… I was drunk and high. I barely remember being there, much less snogging someone.” He offers a James an apologetic smile. “I mean, if you’d been there, I would’ve definitely kissed _you_.”

“If I’d been there, I would’ve arrested you.” James mutters. “Your father’s company be damned.” Silence stretches between them for a long while, long enough to be uncomfortable. Barry starts to reach for James’s hand, but he pulls back.

“Barry, stop.”

“Aww, c’mon, James. I’m sorry.” he says. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“I don’t want… I don’t care, Barry.” He tries to move for the door handle again, but Barry steps in front of him.

“I mean it, though, I am sorry.” James finally looks at Barry, meeting his gaze. He looks swollen and in pain, but he also looks sober, which is a look James doesn’t know if he’s seen before. “Please forgive me. I know you’re mad, but… let me try.” Barry licks at his lips unconsciously and James finds himself following the movement.

“Please, James.” Barry murmurs. He’s close enough that James can feel his breath against his lips and the last of James willpower slips away as he presses their mouths together. Barry hums into the kiss and James backs him against the car door. Barry gives no resistance, his mouth opening as James’s tongue pushes inside. James cups a hand over Barry’s jaws, stubble brushing and tickling his palm.

“I’m still angry,” James says against his lips.

“I know,” Barry says between kisses. “We can work on that.”

“Really angry,” James clarifies.

“Point taken,” Barry smiles into the kiss as he wraps his arms around James’s waist.

A sudden, high-pitched wolf whistle interrupts them, sending James scrambling backward.

“Why, Constable Currie,” Mike approaches them, thumbs hooked on his utility belt as he walks. “Is this a new ‘stop and search’ protocol that I’m unaware of? Or were you searching one of his cavities for narcotics.” James can feel the blush rising up from under the color of his uniform, but Barry just tries to hold back a giggles

“Uh.., yes, well, um... Are we set to leave?” James says, attempting to change the subject. “I’ve offered Mr. Taylor an escort home.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you have offered you him a ride, James,” Mike says cheekily as he walks around the squad car to the passenger side. “Seriously, though, I’m glad you two settled your issues. It was getting old.” He gives Barry  a serious look and says in a low voice. “He’s been a grumpy bastard the last few weeks.”

“Excuse me?” James says, offended.

“What? “You have!” Mike slams the car door shut as James opens the back door for Barry. He starts to get in and then stops, giving James a curious look.

“What?” James asks.

“I am just wondering what ‘grumpy bastard James Currie’,” Barry says. “If this is you in a good mood, I mean…” James rolls his eyes and pecks Barry on the forehead.

“Keep pushing your luck and you’ll find out.”

  



End file.
